


the meadow

by publius_ham



Series: Memoirs [2]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 23:09:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12617632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/publius_ham/pseuds/publius_ham
Summary: The gay trio recline to a meadow near their camp to talk and enjoy the quiet for once.





	the meadow

**Author's Note:**

> French translations are at the end of the fic - please excuse any mistakes, I am not a native speaker.

“ _ Sérieusement _ , Alexander,” the Marquis laughed, rolling over to lie on his belly on the grass, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “One day  _ notre Général  _ will drape your person over his lap and make you listen to reason by force of his hand!”

“Really, now, Lafayette -” I began, trying to rise from my admittedly very comfortable position of lying with my head upon Laurens’ chest. Before I could do so, however, Laurens stopped me, a smile evident in his voice.

“He is right. You have yet to learn the subtle skill of  _ silence. _ You are not exactly…”

“...  _ d’un nature soumise, _ ” offered Lafayette. Laurens hummed in the affirmative. 

I huffed, and moved away from him to lie down upon the grass instead. The ground felt warmer than the unforgiving wind, and I tried not to mourn the loss of the steady rise and fall of Laurens’ chest underneath me. I frequently joked Laurens to be the embodiment of the sun - he was certainly warm enough to the touch for that to be at least a bit probable. He always replied he’d taken the South Carolinian sun with him to the North. 

“You wound me,” I said in mock-hurt, my hand ghosting above my chest. “And I  _ trusted  _ you. I see that the partiality I have bestowed upon the both of you has been misplaced, and that I should immediately recline to my quarters and forget my eyes have ever set eyes upon you, forget I ever dared call you my  _ friends!  _ For you have betrayed me, broken my heart, torn it up in front of me and -”

“Mon dieu, Alexander,” Lafayette was shaking with laughter now, and he smiled up through strands of his reddish hair to look upon my face. I almost forgot I was supposed to be mad at him when I saw his face -  _ he was so young.  _  “You sound like a despairing woman.”

“Don’t worry, Laf,” Laurens quipped dryly, “that’s his most frequent state. If I had never seen  _ notre petit lion  _ bathe, I’d seriously question his sex.”

_ “John!”  _

“See?” Laurens couldn’t help but gloat. “He’s blushing now, too.”

“I hate you both,” I muttered angrily, crossing my arms in defiance. My eyes were closed now, too, as if shielding myself from the triumphant smiles of my supposed dearest friends. I knew they were merely jesting, as they always did whenever we had the rare opportunity for resting and talking without someone overhearing, but that never really lessened any hurt. Any insults to my masculinity had been frequent throughout my youth - my slight bearing and eyes did not exactly help this point of view - and the fear of  _ Laurens  _ thinking of me as a woman scared me. 

No one knew better than I did that he preferred  _ men _ . 

Then, without any warning, Lafayette started talking again. The sudden turn of the wind and its change in scent - now carrying the smell of death and decay from the nearby battlefield - must have spurred him on, and he started rambling about the retreat, how lucky the god-blessed Americans had been and how, “ _ sans Général Washington, nous n’aurions jamais gagné!” _

For a second I wanted to fight him - the Americans didn’t exactly win, they just got away in time - when suddenly Laurens’ hand was on my skin. 

I have no clue how he did it without me noticing. He must have somehow slowly worked his hand under every layer, my coat, my shirt protecting my skin to surprise me. I couldn’t fight him off or reprimand him, Lafayette was right  _ there,  _ and I did not exactly want to shake off his touch. 

Because no matter how peeved I still was at their earlier jests, this was Laurens. 

And I was impossibly in love with him. 

Meanwhile Lafayette was droning on, chirping happily in his mother’s tongue, ignorant of the fact that neither of his friends were really listening. 

“Is this okay?” Laurens breathed in my ear, smiling as though he knew my answer would be yes - it would always be yes. He stroked my side. He’d never been good at not touching me, he seemed to even  _ like  _ to touch my skin, he didn’t seem repelled by any of it. I revelled in his touch. 

“Yes,” I whispered back, scootching closer to put my head back on him - this time on his shoulder. He kissed the side of my head - thank Providence of the small miracle of Lafayette talking with his head down to the ground - and gripped me tighter. 

Lafayette turned around sharply, and Laurens and I froze, only to relax immediately after when we saw that he had his eyes closed and was gesturing wildly into the air, his speech running away from him as he started rambling about the General, his adoptive papá.

“I think,” Laurens whispered, “that the only person alive who can match your fervor and speed in words is our dear Marquis - granted the subject of his speech is the General.”

I laughed, and looked up to Laurens in mirth, the sides of my eyes crinkling as my face split in two because of my grin. Every bit of anger towards him was forgotten, and forgiven - as anything he could ever do to me would be. 

I wished for nothing more than to be able to tilt my head and kiss him right there - kiss the smile from his face, taste his laughter, claim his happiness. It took every ounce of me not to do it, and judging by the sharp drag of Laurens’ nails in my side I was not the only one holding myself in check. 

_ I know,  _ Laurens’ eyes seemed to say as he sighed at me,  _ me too. _

“You know,” Lafayette suddenly said in English, startling us, “I think you two have not heard a word I have said.” 

“Oh, forgive us, dear Marquis,” I said, rolling over to look up to him, pouting. Women called it endearing. I only hoped he would think the same. “The sun was lulling me to sleep, and I’m afraid it had claimed Laurens as a victim as well.”

“Of course you are forgiven,  _ petit lion.”  _ Lafayette’s grin had something wicked. “If I can repeat my speech -”

I couldn’t help the groan that left my body. “ _ Non _ ,” I said, sternly, and pulled him down to the ground with me, my arm clutching him close. Laurens still had not stop touching me - almost possessively. “Let’s sleep. It is futile to resist Morpheus’ temptation, no? After all,  _ herós,  _ you most of all deserve to close your eyes and rest. You  _ did  _ save our army.”

Lafayette laughed, and relaxed in my grip. “You have always been the wisest of men, Alexandre.  _ Oui _ . Let’s sleep.”

Laurens snorted at his compliment. 

I jabbed him in the ribs. 

Because however much my heart might be smitten for him, he wasn’t exempt of my scrappy nature. (If anything, he seemed to enjoy it.) 

And to the soft, steady sound of Laurens’ breathing against my neck I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! Please review if you did ;D
> 
> French translations:
> 
> Serieusement - seriously  
> D'un nature soumise - of a submissive nature  
> Sans Général Washington, nous n’aurions jamais gagné! - we never would have won without General Washington!  
> héros - hero


End file.
